


Discoveries

by Abbie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Best Friends, Bisexuality, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very little in their 17 year friendship has rocked the boat of Oliver and Tommy's relationship, but what Oliver saw at last night's party might just change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discoveries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RosieTwiggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTwiggs/gifts).



> Prompted on Tumblr by Rosie, "jealous kiss"

It was stupid.

Oliver _knew_ it was stupid.

But it didn’t stop the churning in his gut, hot and acidic, bubbling up into his throat, flaring into the tightness squeezing his chest. It clenched his jaw and tugged hard at the corners of his mouth, pinched his brows over the bridge of his nose. He knew it was stupid, but even still he could feel it pulsing in his throat, in the low ache of his gums as he ground his teeth.

Three years, he’d known, and it had never mattered at all. Not once since they were fourteen and Tommy nearly worked himself into a panic attack telling Oliver he liked boys as well as girls had it _ever_ mattered to Oliver, except a worry that he’d have to bust some noses at school, and a deep fear that if Malcolm found out Tommy might get worse than his nose busted at home.

It hadn’t changed how he felt about Tommy. They’d been best friends before they’d been old enough to know there was a word for it. Oliver hadn’t felt like it changed anything about _them_ at all. Not for three whole years.

So why now?

Oliver had perfected how to be Tommy’s wingman whether the target was a girl or a guy; he’d helped Tommy feel out other guys at parties to see if there was a chance, he’d cleared the way for hookups with boys, with girls, with whoever. Tommy’d even _dated_ a couple guys. Neither relationship had lasted very long, and hadn’t had any effect whatsoever on Tommy and Oliver’s friendship.

And then they’d gone to one of Candace Withon’s parties and Oliver had walked in on Tommy making out with Jude Alber-Thorpe in the poolhouse. He’d been looking for Tommy to play a round of beer pong with him, and he just… he hadn’t expected to find him like that. Oliver hadn’t even known Tommy was _interested_ in Jude; it’s not like the track team member hung around their crowd or anything.

And Oliver _certainly_ hadn’t expected to walk in and see them pulling at each other’s clothes, mouths moving together in sloppy enthusiasm, Tommy pinning Jude to the wall and grinding into his hips… They hadn’t even realized they’d been discovered, and Oliver had stood there like an idiot, staring, something sick and mean and _sad_ twisting up his guts and tightening his fists until he’d turned on his heel and left. He’d almost ditched the party—ditched _Tommy_ —but he couldn’t.

Could never.

He’d tried to play it cool the rest of the night, and through getting home with Tommy. He’d normally stay over after a party, but he’d made an excuse to go home with his stomach full of churning lead and cold sweat prickling at the back of his neck, Tommy’s confused, worried eyes dogging his sleep.

Why was he feeling like this? It was _stupid_.

Maybe it was because Jude went to Starling Prep; neither of the guys Tommy’d dated before went to school with them. Maybe he was just worried Jude being around all the time would mean less Tommy for Oliver.

Maybe it was because Oliver couldn’t stop seeing the way Jude’s hands tugged at the back of Tommy’s shirt, grabbed at his ass; the way Tommy arched his back to push Jude harder into the wall, and sucked at his neck.

But now it was Saturday afternoon in Tommy’s bedroom and Oliver needed to shake it the fuck off.

“Hey, dumbass, you just got dead again. What’s with you today, man?”

Oliver blinked and realized his half of the flatscreen was overlaid with red and the word “RESPAWN” blinking in white. Sighing in aggravation, Oliver set his controller aside on the carpet and scrubbed a hand over the back of his head, scowling at his toes.

“Ollie.” Tommy was looking at him with that concerned wrinkle over the bridge of his nose, twisted at the waist and one elbow propped up on end of the bed to put his full attention on Oliver. “Seriously, buddy, what’s going on with you?”

He’d been shit at keeping it together and out of the way; of course he had. Why had he thought he could hide _anything_ from Tommy? Oliver slid his gaze guiltily sideways, the middle finger of his left hand running the edge of his fingernail over and over against the pad of his thumb.

Clearing his throat, he blurted, “So, Jude, huh? I didn’t know you were into him.”

Tommy blinked, flinching back slightly. “So this is about last night. Jude _thought_ that was you running out of there. It… it was just a hookup, Ollie.”

Chin still lowered, Oliver glanced up at him. “So you’re not going out with him? I mean, I just don’t really know Jude, and is he gonna be hanging out with us now, or…?”

Tommy’s expression shuttered up tight like it usually only did when his family was brought up. “It was just a hookup, Oliver. You never cared whether or not you knew the guys I was screwing before. Why now?”

“No, it’s not—it’s not…” Oliver sighed again, banging the back of his head against the hardwood footboard. “This is the first one that’s gone to school with us before. I figure he’d, you know. Be _around_. Just trying to figure out… how to deal with that or whatever.”

Tommy’s jaw flexed, eyes flashing as he sat up straight, turning to face Oliver fully. “Since when do you have to ‘figure out how to deal’ with me being with somebody?” His chin jutted, tongue running over his teeth behind his lips and nostrils flaring. “Or is it because this is a guy and you wouldn’t be able to ignore it this time?”

“ _What_?” Oliver burst out, shifting to face Tommy, face screwed up incredulously. “Ignore—Tommy, what the fuck, that’s bullshit.”

“Is it?” He snapped bitterly. “You’re being real fucking weird about this—”

“I am _not_ being weird!”

“—and is it because this is the first time you’ve _seen_ me with a guy? Fine in theory, but in your face maybe you’re not as cool with it, huh?”

“Tommy, that’s bullshit!” Oliver shouted. “You _seriously_ think after three fucking years I’m suddenly some homophobic asshole because I caught you dry humping Jude fucking Alber-Thorpe?”

“Then why are you _being_ like this, Oliver!” Tommy demanded, hands shaking in frustration. Tears stood in his eyes, even wide and angry—wide and _afraid_ —as he searched Oliver’s face desperately. “Because I can’t take it, okay? I can’t take it if you’re suddenly—if you’re not—if _you_ turn your b—”

He didn’t think. He just reached out and grabbed a fistful of the front of Tommy’s shirt, dragging him in and gripping the back of his neck. He smashed his mouth into Tommy’s, his heart pounding against his sternum, in his throat, in his ears, as he clutched at Tommy and breathed harshly through his nose.

Tommy was frozen against him, his lips puckered closed under Oliver’s and not moving.

It should be weird. Right? It should be weird.

It wasn’t. He didn’t want it to be.

Instead, Oliver eased his grip a little, slanted his mouth across Tommy’s at a better angle, and kissed him again, pressing his lips over Tommy’s, between, over and over until they relaxed, parted. Pressed back.

Oliver’s hands came up to frame Tommy’s face—the hard angles of his jaw, the sharp cheekbones so much different than holding a girl’s face, but Tommy’s lips were still soft, still warm, still felt so damn _good_ sliding across his, fitting between them—and Tommy clutched at Oliver’s shoulders, fingers fisting in his shirt, one palm smoothing up Oliver’s neck to curl under his jaw, around his nape.

Tommy’s teeth scraped over Oliver’s bottom lip and he gasped at the slight sting—hummed a little when the tip of Tommy’s tongue soothed the skin. Oliver opened his mouth reflexively, and Tommy sighed, leveraging up a little on his knees to get a higher angle, tipping Oliver’s head back as he slipped his tongue into Oliver’s mouth. Oliver moved his hands to Tommy’s back, trying to drag him closer, wanting him against him, wanting _more_ —

—and Tommy jerked away.

“Shit,” Tommy said softly, feelingly, breathing heavy.

Oliver opened his eyes, hands still on Tommy’s back, unable to let him go as he looked up and found Tommy staring at the carpet, brows turned up like he—like he was—like he was…

Hurt.

“Tommy?”

Slowly, Tommy raised his eyes to Oliver’s, the blue darkened but clouded more with uncertainty. “Did you…” He swallowed harshly. “Ollie, did you… did you kiss me because you were jealous?”

Heat flooded Oliver’s face, shame and worry pulling on his guts, making him tighten his fingers on Tommy’s back, scared to let him go. “I… I…” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes wide and ears ringing, voice escaping in a tight whisper, “Yes? I—I think I did.”

Tommy blinked rapidly. “But you—before, you never…”

“No,” Oliver shook his head—but when Tommy inhaled sharply and jerked against his hold, Oliver only pulled him in closer. “Not before _now_.”

Tommy sighed, long and shaky, and let his forehead fall against Oliver’s, lashes sweeping low. His hands framed Oliver’s neck, fingertips carding back into the hair at his nape. “We should… probably talk about this. Sort out what the fuck this is.”

Oliver nodded, his nose nudging alongside Tommy’s with the motion, but his eyes were on Tommy’s lips, parted, swollen, still wet. Oliver spread his fingers wide against Tommy’s back and planed the palms up and down to either side of his spine.

Tommy shivered under Oliver’s hands.

“We probably should,” Oliver agreed hoarsely. He tipped his chin up, mouth open and brushing over Tommy’s—exhaling into Tommy’s gasp—and _god_ it was a struggle to use his mouth for words, instead of… _anything_ else. “But… can I kiss you some more first?” He closed his lips softly around Tommy’s upper lip, sucking on it just a little, letting it go. “Please?”

Tommy’s swallow was audible, his nod dragging their lips across each other. “Yeah,” he rasped, thumbs tracing the edges of Oliver’s jaw. “Yeah we can do that f—”

Oliver kissed him again before he could finish.


End file.
